


Testament to Love

by SoftNFluff



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Age Regression, Dark, Gen, Implied Violence, Kidnapping, Little Gavin, Non-Sexual Age Regression, Trans Gavin Reed, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Reader, controlling RK900, vut also Big Gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftNFluff/pseuds/SoftNFluff
Summary: After being kidnapped by Nines, you learn to deal with the everyday life of being in his clutches.





	Testament to Love

Gavin smiled down at you. “Watcha got there?”

You had a pen in your hand, as well as a sheet of loose-leaf paper. He could see that clearly. Somehow, saying it out loud would be like letting him win. Like telling him this was some normal interaction, and not something entirely fucked up. You wanted to hate him. 

A hand reached down to tousle your hair, the hair Gavin had cut himself, with the help of Father. “It’s ok if you wanna be shy and all. I was shy too, when Daddy first took me.” 

And there it was. Because as many times as you tried to summon malice and aggression whenever you looked at him, you just couldn’t. Not when he was in the same situation as you were. 

Still, you couldn’t help but lash out. “I’m not being shy. You’re just being annoying.” 

“Well, you’re being mean!” Gavin stomped his foot on the floor. The fuzzy socks he wore dampened the sound immensely, only letting a tiny thwap escape. All he looked like was a child. 

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your drawing. It was a nice drawing, very detailed, but you’d have to scrap it before Father saw. 

It was a picture of the little cabin you lived in, burning to the ground. Father was inside it, of course, but that wasn’t apparent. The drawing was stress relief, one learned from years of therapy in your life Before. You could still remember your therapist, plastic glasses perched on her beaklike nose as she leaned over. “Sometimes, it helps to draw what you want to see in this world. It’s a great way to visualize your goals.” 

In the Before, you had had dreams. Aspirations. Now? All you wanted was to survive. To have some small measure of peace. 

It seemed Gavin wanted to thwart those plans. Growing bored of watching you draw, he had thrown himself dramatically to the floor, eyes trained on the ceiling. “I’m bored!” He announced. 

“You’re a brat.” You muttered. He couldn’t help it, but Gavin’s fits still annoyed you. You remembered the first time he had slipped into his state. Little state, Father had called it. The first time had freaked you out. 

You had been there for a week, having finally been let out of your room and introduced to your “older brother”. Gavin had seemed alright at first, if tired. Not that you blamed him. But as Father fussed over him, nudging and pushing him towards you in the name of “meeting your brother”, he seemed to act… younger. Before, he had been timid, like a hurt animal, but as Father spoke to him, Gavin had leaned into his touch. He had scampered over to you, a man of at least 30, probably more, and certainly older than you, peering at you with glassy green eyes. 

You had backed away, frightened, and that made him cry. Something unintelligible and blubbering, into Father’s shirt. That had earned you Father’s discipline. 

Sometimes, you almost envied Gavin. Big Gavin was just as afraid as you were, cowering away from Father, but Little Gavin loved him with all of the reverence a child could possess. Little Gavin was almost happy. Still, the thought of losing your control, of loving the monster that had kidnapped you, made you ill. 

“Watcha drawing?” The jumbled question cut through your concentration. Watery green eyes had narrowed in your direction, Gavin having inched across the floor on his back to face you. 

“Mind your own business.” With a whoosh, you yanked the paper out of his eyeline. 

“Mean!” Gavin huffed, crawling towards you like an oversized worm. Despite your annoyance, it took all of your composure not to laugh. 

“Idiot.” You said it half heartedly, jabbing at Gavin’s exposed stomach with the Burt if your pen. 

That made his eyes widen, mouth open in a big wide O before exclaiming, “That’s violence! I’m telling Daddy!”

Fuck. Before Gavin could stand, you (gently) pushed him back down. “Instead of doing that, which is mean and nasty, why don’t I show you something fun?”

“How fun?” 

“Extremely.” 

Allowing him to sit upright, you flipped the paper over, before doodling your best rendition of a kitten on the back. You weren’t the best artist, all things considered, but Gavin adored cats. 

“Kitty!” He pointed. 

M“Yeah. Good job.” You doodled another animal besides it, this time a puppy, and Gavin clapped as he named it. 

After a few more animals, Gavin began to fidget. As your hand traced the lines of a bunny, his own hand jumped out to stop yours. “Blocks now?”

“I’m drawing.” You had actually gotten into it. 

“Please? S’no fun without you.” He gave you a pout, like a kicked puppy, and you never would have figured a grown man giving you that look would actually make you feel something until now. 

Blocks were fine, anyways. Even if they were too babyish for your tastes. 

As you placed the final blocks onto your dream house alongside Gavin, the front door swung open. Father was home. Your drawing from earlier lay out in the open, thankfully animal side up, but too far away to reach. You silently hoped he wouldn’t look. 

As Father entered, he took off his long black coat. White had gathered on the cuffs and the sleeves. As his blue eyes alighted on both of you playing, something like happiness twinged inside of them. You wanted to vomit. 

“I see my kitten and bunny are getting along. No fights today, right kitten? You were both good boys?” He opened his arms for a hug. Gavin rushed in, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. 

“Right Daddy! Was good all day! N So was y/n.” 

“Good.” Containing Hurricane Gavin to one arm, he beckoned for you with his other. Things didn’t go well for you if you refused his hug, so you crept over, biting your lip as he clasped you to his chest. “I’m glad to see you’re settling in, bunny.” His finger flicked your nose, and you flinched. “You’re getting there, at least.” He pushed you further into him, rubbing briskly up and down your back. 

Father smelled strange. Not particularly unpleasant, minus the associations, but like plastic and gunpowder. You had never seen him sleep or eat, and even without an LED on his head, you suspected he was an android. It would certainly explain the degree of watchfulness he could achieve. 

“Would my boys like some dinner?”

“Yes please Daddy!” Gavin wiggled Besides you, staring up at Father fervently. 

“Sure, Whatever.” Your appetite hadn’t truly returned yet. 

“Alright. Why don’t you get changed while I prepare something. And Y/N? How long have you been binding for?”

The concern that Father held for your rib cage was excessive. You were only allowed to bind for 7 and a half hours a day, with breaks in between. But at least you were better off than Gavin. For whatever reason, Father claimed his ribs were too delicate to bind, and he wasn’t allowed to wear one. “7 hours.”

“Take it off before dinner.”

“But-“

“You’ll be going to sleep anyways. Right?”

Father’s bedtimes were strict, too. “Fine.”

After changing out of your day clothes and into your pajamas (bunny themed, of course), you padded down to the kitchen. 

Dinner was Mac and cheese with bacon, along with a salad that Gavin had already turned his nose up at. A large plate sat at your end of the square table, while Gavin balanced on Father’s lap across from you. 

As you dug in, you listened to Gavin babble on about his day. It was almost nice, if you could remove the implications of everything. Even when Father’s hand snaked out to clasp yours. 

“... An then I was bored, but y/n was so nice to me an made me cool drawings. Look Daddy!” 

Before you could even think to signal for Gavin to stop, he whipped out the paper of drawings, shoving it in Father’s face. 

As Father looked them over, pointing out artistic talents you didn’t think you had, you thought you were in the clear. Until his eyes narrowed. 

“Y/n? What’s this?” 

You could lie, but his tone told you he already knew. 

“It’s… our house.”

“Our house on fire. Why?”

“I-“ What could you say? That you hated him, and you hoped he burned to death?

Father sighed. “Gavin, why don’t you go play with your blocks?” Before Gavin could protest, he gently nudged him off of his lap. 

“Y/n, come here.” He patted his thigh, and you saw no way to refuse. Gingerly, you seated yourself on him. 

“You’re unhappy here.”

“Yes.” 

“But you’re safe here. You weren’t happy, weren’t safe out there. You’re being ungrateful.” His hand came up to stroke your face, pressing you against himself so you couldn’t shy away. “Baby boy, they hate people like us out there. Your own family didn’t accept you.”

You wanted to say he was wrong. Instead, you started crying. Soft hands wiped at your tears. “I love you, y/n. You’re my baby.”

As he rocked you on his lap, you couldn’t help but ask the dreaded question. “Am I gonna get punished?”

“I’ll go easy on you; corner time only, and no dessert.” He said it playfully. “You humans are so fragile; I don’t want to hurt you without needing to.” 

———

That night, as you curled into your bed, Father’s words raced around your brain. “Without needing to.” Each time you thought of them, it sent chills down your spine. 

Something knocked at the door, and you jumped. 

“It’s Gavin.” His voice was gruff, tired. Big Gavin. 

“Come in.” 

He did, smiling wanly at you as he sat Besides you on the bed. “He’s asleep, or as close to it as he can get.” His eyes shone red, hair spiked up like he had slept on it funny. “I’m so sorry about dinner.”

You always wondered how much he remembered from being little. You supposed that cinched it. “It’s fine; I doubt you knew what you were doing.”

Gavin didn’t have an answer. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You leaned into him, snuggling your head under his chin. He felt so soft, so safe. He smelled human. 

“Thank you, baby boy.” 

When he said those words, everything was alright. 

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, kiddo?” 

“Do you ever…” You dropped your voice lower. “Think about leaving?”

“Running away?” Gavin winced. “Tried that once. For three towns over before he found me. Fucked my ribs up real bad.”

“He hurt you?” You winced in sympathy, reaching out to rub his side. Gavin was covered in scars, sure, but you still shuddered at the thought of him being hurt. 

“I think he regrets it. Least he’s never treated me like that since. But there’s no escape for us. Unless we…” even with Father asleep, Gavin was still too afraid to say it. 

“We’ll think of something. We’re smart, right?”

“Right, kiddo.” 

As you snuggled into him further, gingerly resting your head against his soft chest, he twisted so you were both lying down on the bed. 

“You’re staying?”

“Why not? I can just say I got up and didn’t want to wake him, so I can edit a visit.”

“Alright.” You nodded, nuzzling into him as he stroked your hair. “And Daddy? Can you tell me a story.

Gavin nodded. 

As his soft words rolled over you, you let your conscience slip away. You couldn’t let yourself be Little, be vulnerable with Father, but with Gavin? You were the safest you could be.


End file.
